Nearly Gone
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: Following the encounter with the stone giants, Fili knew Thorin would not look kindly on any signs of weakness from him. Movieverse, AU. No slash. Companion piece to "Almost Lost," but can be read on its own.


Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Dedicated: For **chesrty007**,who requested this a long time ago.

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Nearly Gone

"Here, Fili," Thorin ordered gruffly, pointing to the space beside his bedroll.

The blond-haired prince swallowed back the protest on the tip of his tongue. Now was not the time for arguing or fussing (nor the unjustifiable lingering feelings of envy and longing he'd felt covertly watching his brother and uncle after the company's encounter with the stone giants). He needed to not let his frustration get the better of him, say something he'd regret, reveal how shaken he still was.

He silently did as he was instructed, quickly setting up his bedroll and getting under the cover. Once settled, he glanced up. In the low light he saw his uncle watching him. When his leader nodded in approval, Fili sighed and rolled onto his side, his back to Thorin. Suddenly he felt breathless, a burning growing in his throat.

Tonight...Thorin and Kili… It had been too close for comfort, the possibility of losing both of them. He had been so scared. Kili he had embraced hard and kept close while the group sought out shelter for the night. But Thorin Fili had not spoken to, barely exchanging nods with the dwarven king. He had longed to ask him if he'd been hurt, to hug him. Instead he had silently reassured himself that the dwarven lord was well as his kin exchanged words too quiet to overhear, quickly averting his gaze when Thorin glanced around.

He was of the House of Durin, the king's heir. As such he was expected to be responsible, calm, and strong. If his lingering fear and worry was revealed Thorin would not be pleased. He was not the younger brother, in need of being checked on and comforted. No.

The prince gasped softly and his eyes rounded when without warning a strong arm looped around his waist and drew him back against a warm chest. He froze, stunned, not daring to breathe. He felt Thorin's heartbeat against his back, heard his uncle's shallow, quick breathing.

Fili swallowed hard, and nervously turned until he was facing his uncle, the dwarf's arm loosening just enough for him to move before tightening around him. For a moment he stared at Thorin's chest. Once feeling somewhat calm (forcefully pushing away his wonderment), the prince glanced up.

Thorin surged forward, pressing his forehead against the younger dwarf's. Fili stiffened in shock, his breath catching in his throat. Gradually he grew aware of the hand curled around him trembling, of Thorin's whole body shaking. Concern washed over Fili.

"Unc—_Thorin?_" he breathed, suddenly seeing his leader hanging from the edge of the cliff again. He swallowed hard.

Anger, broodiness, frustration, even disappointment he would have understood, expected when the dwarven lord drew back enough for him to see his expression. But to be confronted such vulnerability, blue eyes darting over him swiftly, repeatedly, something like disbelief in them… Fili was speechless.

"Are you alright?" Thorin's voice was hoarse.

Jerkily the prince nodded once, the burning in his throat growing. When the dark-haired dwarf stared at him with expectancy, he took a deep breath.

"I am fine. I wasn't hurt," he managed to reply. It was so. Just a few scrape and bruises. Nothing compared to…

"You are well?" his uncle pressed, a note of desperation in his tone, eyes shining.

Fili met the gaze of the other, "Yes," on the tip of his tongue. In the low light Thorin appeared pale, old, haunted. The younger dwarf like out a shuddering breath. Feeling his composure crumbling, his gaze dropped to Thorin's chest, unable to speak. Sniffling, he fought back the tears welling up.

A chocked gasp escaped him as he was drawn impossibly closer to the older dwarf, burrowed into his chest, arms holding him securely, protectively.

"Fili?"

He could only shake his head, fingers curling into the fur lining of the dwarven king's coat. He was embraced harder.

"You are safe," words were breathed ferociously into his golden hair. "I've got you. You are safe now."

"I was scared for you!" the anguished words burst out of Fili in a fearful whisper. "Thought you would die. And after…I tried to be— You—"

"I worried for you…nearly gone. Can't lose you," Thorin confessed shakily.

The younger dwarf raised his head, and his heart swelled when his uncle gently touched his wet check, tears in his own eyes. No shame, no dissatisfaction. Only understanding, acceptance, relief. More tears falling down Fili's face, he rested his head back on the other's chest, sliding his arms around Thorin, hugging back fiercely. And the mountain that had weighed on his shoulders since the thunder battle faded.

"Thank you, uncle."

He smiled at the warmth surrounding him, hearing Thorin sigh.

"My little Fee."

THE END


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